


Don't Spike the Punch

by explosim



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 19:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explosim/pseuds/explosim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kiyoshi's a needy drunk and Hanamiya has never been one to say no to sex</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Spike the Punch

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [bad influence](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/35148) by Aldariia. 



> i think i'm starting to ship these two...

“Where did you wander off to?”

Hanamiya's walking towards him holding a cup in his hand. He shrugs nonchalantly, “Spiked the punch bowl.”

“What? Why the heck did you do that? Now I have to go tell-”

“Nope.” Hanamiya flops down across his lap and wraps his arm around Kiyoshi's neck. “You get to sit here and enjoy yourself. Here,” he gently shakes the cup next to Kiyoshi's face. “I even got you some.”

Kiyoshi rolls his eyes and wraps an arm around Hanamiya's bare torso, pulling him closer. His skin is warm.

He takes a large gulp and nearly dies which, of course, sets Hanamiya off in a fit of laughter.

“What the fuck did you put in here?” he chokes out. “And how much?” His throat feels like it's on fire, it's burning so badly.

Hanamiya snorts. “No idea. Just saw a bottle and thought 'why not?' And about...” he pauses, thinking back. “Half the bottle? Give or take a bit? You're such a pussy, it can't be that bad.” He takes the cup from Kiyoshi, pulling a face as he sniffs it.

“Wow, this stuff smells like shit.” He sips it, drinking a lot less than Kiyoshi did and pulls another face. This one a mixture of impressed amazement and gross disgust. “I probably shouldn't have added that extra bit to your cup,” he says offhandedly. He leans forward and kisses the side of Kiyoshi's head lightly as he presses the cup back into his hands.

“You should probably drink this one a little slower than the last,” he whispers. “Don't you think?” He bites lightly on the tip of Kiyoshi's ear before pulling back and settling against him, turning slightly to watch the TV.

Kiyoshi's half tempted to shove him off. Instead, he relaxes against the couch, cradling Hanamiya closer as he nurses his cup.

 

Halfway through the third inning he starts to feel light headed. He feels like a planet; floating up in space and spinning in circles. He snorts, laughing at himself, and then takes another sip. Hanamiya throws him a weird look. A ' _what the fuck is wrong with you_ ' look. It's not much different from the normal look he receives so he doesn't pay much attention.

Except now he's thinking of Hanamiya. Becoming acutely aware of all the places their bodies are touching. Of how comfortable his heavy weight on his lap is. The heat coming from his body.

He starts to trail his fingers up and down his stomach but Hanamiya distractedly slaps a hand over them, full attention still on the game.

Kiyoshi goes to take another drink and frowns when he finds the cup empty. _That's not fair,_ he thinks as he puts the cup down beside him. _Hanamiya's not being fair either._ He leans forward and presses his face to his neck.

Still no response.

He huffs in frustration. He's more important than a stupid sports game. It's not even basketball.

He opens his mouth and _bites_ Hanamiya's neck.

“Oi Kiyoshi, what the fuck?” He doesn't stop though. He keeps biting along Hanamiya's neck. Licking over the sore spots and then sucking them harshly. Fuck, he really wants him. Right now.

He wraps his other arm around Hanamiya's leg, feeling his way up his thigh to his ass, and hums deeply.

“Kiyoshi-,” Hanamiya breathes heavily, trying to hold his moans in. “Kiyoshi, fuck. We're in the middle of the fucking room.”

“Don't care,” he mumbles into his neck.

Kiyoshi's hands keep wandering and Hanamiya can _feel_ people looking at them. He can also feel Kiyoshi's dick grow hard and press against him, erasing all thoughts of watching the rest of the game from his mind. He looks over and his eyes catch the empty cup sitting there innocently. _That should have lasted 'till at least_ _the sixth inning_ _. Fucking idiot._

He slides off Kiyoshi's lap and grabs a hold of his hand, pulling him up. He keeps a hold of it as he leads them to the basement, ignoring the string of knowing looks he gets as he passes people. He doesn't care though. The only way they're seeing Kiyoshi's dick is if he wants them to, and right now he wants it all to himself.

They stumble down the stairs and then Kiyoshi's back on him, wrapping his arms around him from behind and shoving his hands right into his pants.

“Fucking- you think you could wait a little bit?” he asks sarcastically, not really expecting a response.

They both moan deeply when Kiyoshi palms his dick, squeezing it before running his hand up and down.

Hanamiya leans back and grinds his ass against Kiyoshi's dick, rotating his hips in small circles that draw out even more moans.

He's almost forgotten about finding a secluded place for them when he hears footsteps on the top of the stairs. He curses and shoves Kiyoshi into the nearest room, closing the door behind them. He snorts at the cliche of it, _a fucking closet?_

But then there are hands undoing his pants, shoving them to the ground and pulling his dick out. He leans back against the door for balance when Kiyoshi drops to his knees and _swallows_ him down.

He moans. Loud and unrestrained and he doesn't give a shit if others can hear him. Pushing his hands into Kiyoshi's hair he feels as his head bobs up and down.

Kiyoshi reaches up and runs his nails down Hanamiya's stomach, leaving angry red marks where everyone can see. At the same time he starts to flick his tongue, circling it around and over the head before leaning forward to take it deep once more.

Hanamiya can barely breathe. It's too much but also _not enough._ He wants Kiyoshi. To kiss him and lick him and – _fuck._ He groans, tugging lightly on Kiyoshi's hair. _He really wants Kiyoshi's dick._ The hot heavy feel of it in his hands, it's softness, it's _wetness-_

“Kiyoshi,” he pants. “Up.”

Kiyoshi takes his time standing, kissing and licking every bit of available skin, making Hanamiya's cock twitch and leak at the intimacy of it.

When he finally does reach his face, Hanamiya grabs him and kisses him fiercely. He licks into his mouth, tasting nothing but alcohol and maybe a faint trace of his own come.

He grinds his hips into Kiyoshi's leg as he undoes his pants.

Kiyoshi _whines_ when Hanamiya grabs a hold of his dick. His body falls forward and his forearms come up to rest against the door, right next to Hanamiya's ears.

Hanamiya looks up, taking in Kiyoshi's fluttering eyelids and bitten lips. He watches as his face shifts, the expressions change, with every twist and pull of his hand. He really wants to kiss him.

“Hold me up.”

“W-what?” Kiyoshi's eyes fly open in confusion. His hips still thrust restlessly into Hanamiya's hand.

Hanamiya takes his hand off Kiyoshi's dick and places both of them on his shoulders.

“Lift me up, you tall asswipe.” Kiyoshi frowns at the name calling but does so anyways. The weight is a bit too much for him to handle drunk so Hanamiya presses his body back against the door.

His hands immediately grab at Kiyoshi's head and he pulls him forward in a kiss. It's wet and sloppy and _it really shouldn't be this good,_ Hanamiya thinks.

He rolls their hips together, moving one hand to wrap around the both of them while Kiyoshi pulls them tighter together.

They rut against each other, breaths hot and heavy on their faces. Neither of them makes any effort to stay quiet and their voices echo in the small room.

Hanamiya can feel his orgasm coming on. He moves his hand faster. God, it's so wet and hot and he's so close, so very close-

He leans forward and bites at he base of Kiyoshi's neck, sucking hard at the fragile skin and Kiyoshi loses it.

His grip tightens on Hanamiya's ass, digging his fingers in as he comes all over the both of them.

Once Hanamiya feels Kiyoshi's come coat his fingers, hears the low _deep moan_ that accompanies his release, he comes as well, spilling everywhere.

 _Fuck, that was so good._ He leans back against the door, catching his breath until he starts to slip.

He unwraps his legs from Kiyoshi's waist and drops to the ground. Kiyoshi looks like he just played three basketball games in a row. Hanamiya helps guide him to the ground where he pulls his pants up, leans back against the wall, and looks up at him with a satiated expression.

“Fuck.”

Hanamiya rolls his eyes, “Such a way with words.”

Kiyoshi doesn't even respond. Just rests his head back and closes his eyes.

Hanamiya looks at him. He's gonna have a killer hangover in the morning and _he's_ the one that’s gonna have to deal with it.

He sighs, does up his belt, and makes a quick run up to the main floor for a bottle of water. No one pays him any mind; it's the second last inning and most of them have placed bets.

He also grabs a bag of chips as well as a huge wad of tissues to clean them up before joining Kiyoshi back in the closet.

“Here,” he holds out the bottle and Kiyoshi frowns up at him. “For your hangover, dumbass.”

Kiyoshi takes it, drinking half the bottle before leaning back against the wall once more, falling asleep almost immediately.

Hanamiya throws the wad of soiled tissues to some corner and opens the bag of chips once he's settled down next to Kiyoshi.

He spends the next hour vehemently plotting his revenge as he assures Kiyoshi he's not dying, accompanies him to the bathroom where he empties what's got to be more than just his stomach, and rubs said stomach because he 'does it the best.'

He's decided to ignore the fact that he was the one that spiked Kiyoshi's drink in the first place, and instead, milk this for all it's worth.

Kiyoshi's gonna owe him a _lot_ of favours.


End file.
